


Your Taste On My Tongue

by jecroisenLarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Comeplay, Jealous Harry, M/M, Minor Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini, Oral Sex, Romance, Slight Dom/Sub, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 14:02:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3122888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jecroisenLarry/pseuds/jecroisenLarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry comes back to Hogwarts for his Sixth Year, he can't help but notice how much everyone has changed. Especially Draco Malfoy.<br/>And when he witnesses Malfoy and Zabini together, doing things that are definitely more than friendly, he doesn't know why it bothers him so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Taste On My Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this is my first Drarry fanfic! It's also my first published smut, so any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Hope it isn't too bad *cringes*

Harry's Sixth Year at Hogwarts had just started, and even though the horrors of Voldemort returning and all its atrocious consequences - he still couldn't think about Sirius without it feeling like someone was piercing his heart with a dagger - had taken a toll on him, he found a small amount of compensation in the satisfaction that now, everyone knew he wasn't a liar and that the Dark Lord had returned. And going back to Hogwarts, the first place where he'd ever felt at home, the place where the entirety of his happy memories had taken place... That, too, acted as some sort of balm that soothed him and his suffering heart. He was with his two best friends once again, and he was sleeping in that familiar, comfortable big curtained bed, and he was eating his meals in the Great Hall, and he was taking classes about all sorts of magical things, and he felt so _safe_ in that castle, with those people.  
  
As Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking towards their Defense Against The Dark Arts class, their path crossed that of Malfoy, Parkinson and Zabini. The trio walked past, not gracing them with a single glance. Harry noticed how grown-up they all looked. It had been a recurring thought ever since he'd arrived at Hogwarts; he saw people and it seemed to him that they'd all grown so much during that summer - so much more than the past years. Pansy looked like a woman now, and she seemed to know it, if the self-satisfied smirk was anything to go by. She was definitely rather attractive, with her long, flowing dark hair, pale complexion and dark red lips. She looked like a wicked version of Snow White - and oh, how she'd kill him if she knew he was mentally comparing her to a character from a Muggle Tale. As for Blaise... Well, Harry couldn't deny he definitely looked ravishingly handsome. He'd grown into the chubbiness of the awkward years that were his transition from a child to a man, and the baby fat that had clung to his face had melted away to reveal strong, masculine and harmonious features that were only made more attractive by the man's square shoulders and muscled torso. Harry's gaze then shifted to Malfoy. He was in the middle, as always, and if Pansy's curves and beauty and Blaise's strength and manliness definitely caught the eye of anyone who might cross their path, Malfoy was certainly the most mesmerizing out of the three. Where Zabini and Parkinson displayed dark hair and, in Blaise's case, dark skin, Malfoy's person radiated paleness. His blond - almost white - hair glowed in some kind of silver aura, which was reminiscent of Fleur's own hair. Now that Harry thought about it, Malfoy could definitely pass off as a Veela. His creamy skin looked incredibly soft and delicate; his slender, lithe body sported infinitely long legs; and his face was like a work of art. Pale grey eyes, high, defined cheekbones framing a very straight nose, and rosy pink lips. He looked like an angel. Harry wondered where these thoughts were coming from, and if he hadn't ingested some love potion by error. First, admiring _Parkinson_ , then, _Zabini_ , who, assholish manners and Slytherin identity aside, was very much a _male_ , and finally, _Malfoy_?! Certainly something was wrong with him. He'd have to go check with Madam Pomfrey. He looked to his left, only to find Hermione looking at him, a pensative look on her face.  
  
***  
  
The first week of classes was always exciting: new subjects, new exciting learning prospects (although that was more for Hermione than anyone else), spending time with your friends, getting re-acquainted with the castle and its park while the air was still pleasantly warm, and playing Quidditch in an actual Quidditch field - no offense to the Weasley's makeshift Quidditch practice field. Harry listened eagerly in every one of his favorite classes, and dozed off more often than not in the others. But he also found himself staring at Malfoy quite a lot too, for no given reason, and although he was grateful that the Slytherin hadn't seemed to notice yet or catch him staring, Harry could see Zabini and Parkinson look curiously at him whenever he was staring, and he looked away much too quickly every time, a red blush enveloping his cheeks in shameful warmth. At his own table, Hermione, too, looked at him, the same pensive expression as the other day fixed on her features. Harry cursed himself for his lack of self-restraint. He didn’t even know what was happening to him, and why his gaze kept going back to Malfoy.

***

The trio was sitting in the Common Room, having a much-needed lighthearted conversation that took their minds off all the horrible things that were happening around them and the worries swimming inside their heads. They were commenting on the classes they’d had that day, when Ron brought up Malfoy and his friends.

“Did you notice how Parkinson and Zabini kept looking at our table today? I felt like smashing their faces in, they couldn’t seem to stop staring at us.”

“I’m pretty sure they were just looking at Harry”, Hermione said casually. Harry’s heart almost stopped. So she’d noticed the looks they’d been shooting him too.

“What do you think it means? D’you reckon they’re planning something awful again? What if the Death Eaters have given them some sort of mission to achieve inside the castle?”

“I think you’re going a bit too far there, Ron.” Harry objected.

“What? Harry, how can you say that? This is _Malfoy_ ’s friends we’re talking about!”

Feeling weirdly defensive, Harry blurted out “I really don’t think Malfoy is that bad.” in a cold voice, surprising even himself. Ron looked at him as if he’d grown two heads.

“Are you serious, mate? No, really, you’ve got to be kidding me! You can’t possibly _mean_ that! We _hate_ him, remember? He’s a horrible, self-obsessed little brat, an aspiring Death Eater and the most disgusting human being we kno-”

“That’s enough, Ron. He’s none of these things. Now stop it with the litany of insults.”

Ron’s eyes were open wide, and he was looking at Harry as if he’d lost his mind. He looked over at Hermione, clearly seeking some form of support, but she simply stared at Harry, a triumphant look on her face – the same one that always appeared on her features each time she discovered the answer to some particularly difficult question. Harry didn’t like that look, especially when it was directed at him. He stood up and left, ignoring her and Ron’s confused expression.

***

The discussion was never mentioned again, and if Ron walked on eggshells around him for a few hours after that, he soon came back to normal. As for Hermione… She was good at pretending nothing was up, but Harry could feel her observing gaze on him every time they were in the same room as Malfoy.

***

Harry had managed to go an entire day without looking at Malfoy, and had been more than glad to see that Hermione (along with Parkinson and Zabini, but he preferred not to think about that) was on the lookout for some kind of action from Harry, and received none. He planned on doing the same the next day, but the other boy made it absolutely impossible by looking even more delicious than usual (Harry chastised himself for the use of such a word) in all his pale, lean glory. He apparently hadn't had much time to get ready and polished as he usually was, that morning, since his hair looked like it had just dried up. It looked silky-soft and curled gently on his forehead and jawline. Harry _died_ to card his hand through it. He knew this obsession was getting out of hand, and he also knew this sudden interest in boys and _Malfoy_ in particular wasn't normal, but he couldn't do anything about it. He spent the entirety of the classes that day looking at Draco from whatever vantage point he was offered: whether it was to stare at the delicately muscled expanse of his back, at his defined jawline and perfect cheekbones, or at his elegant hands, he couldn't seem to keep his gaze away.  
  
***  
  
That very night, Ron and Harry spent a few hours together without Hermione, since she had gone to the library to study. They decided to go to the lake and sit there for a bit. They sat beneath a huge willow that they had discovered to be the best spot in the park the year before - it shielded from heat in the summer and from the wind in the winter. Plus, the place was absolutely gorgeous. They sat down and talked, half-working on an essay they had for Herbology, half-laughing about whatever stupid thing they had witnessed that day. It was easy and comfortable, and it left Harry with a warm feeling of happiness curling in his stomach. That feeling disappeared as soon as he saw Malfoy appear, accompanied by Blaise Zabini. They sat down on the grass right in front of them, and while they couldn't see the two Gryffindors, hidden by the mass of branches, they were directly in Harry and Ron's line of sight. Of course. Now all Harry could feel was this weird sense of awareness he'd been feeling for a few days when it came to Malfoy. He couldn't look away. Ron was looking, too, and then he was starting a new sentence that Harry couldn't even concentrate on.  
He kept on staring at Malfoy while Ron talked about some Quidditch match, only turning back to Ron when he asked him a question. After that, he forced himself to face Ron and not look at Malfoy, until he saw Ron's eyes go wide and his hand point at the two Slytherins. He turned around, much more quickly than was probably natural, and watched as Malfoy cuddled into Zabini's chest, the dark-skinned man's arm stretched around his shoulders. He continued to watch, his gut twisting in surprise and some unidentifiable but alarmingly displeasing feeling, as Malfoy, laughing, pressed his mouth to Zabini's before pushing him onto the ground and straddling him, the kiss turning more and more passionate every second. Zabini's big hand was framing Malfoy's pale, delicate face, and that image alone was too much for Harry. Then, he saw the Slytherin's other hand, and it was even worse: he was groping Malfoy's ass in a definite un-innocent fashion. From where they were, Harry could clearly see the way the two boys were opening their mouths to each other, letting their tongues meet. The second Malfoy's back arched as he freed his mouth from Zabini's to release a long moan, Ron made a gagging noise and grabbed Harry's arm before leading him away by the other side of the tree. Harry could only follow, a mess of emotions sloshing inside of him.  
"What _was_ that?!" Ron asked, horrified curiosity in his voice.  
"I don't fucking know, Ron. Apparently Malfoy is gay and he's fucking Zabini."  
Ron startled at the aggression in his friend's voice.  
"Yeah... Yeah. Apparently."  
  
They went back inside the castle where they spent an uncomfortable two hours, what with Harry not speaking and sulking while Ron tried to talk to him only to be met with a wall of silence.

That's the state Hermione found them in when she returned from the library. Ron looked extremely relieved not to be alone with Harry anymore. She just raised a brow in question. Harry didn't say anything, looking angrily into the distance. Ron looked at her as if begging her not to comment on it, seeing as he didn't want to upset Harry any further. But Hermione just ignored it and asked: "Well then? What is it, Harry? Why are you so upset?"  
"I'm not _upset_!" He spat out immediately.  
"If you say so. You're definitely not in your normal state, though. What happened?"  
Harry still didn't answer, not even looking at her. He was still stubbornly looking at a distant point behind her.  
She turned to Ron, and the ginger looked like he was hesitating. An insistant glare from her was enough to prompt him to speak.  
"Well... We kind of... We were by the lake and suddenly Malfoy came along with Zabini and they started _making out_ , it was really weird, they were almost shagging in the grass right there!" Ron exclaimed. He'd started cautiously, but as he was reaching the end of his sentence, his astonished mind caught up with him and he couldn't supress an enthusiastic tone while sharing the story.  
Hermione looked surprised for all of two seconds before something like understanding dawned on her face.  
"I see. And that upsets you very much, then, Harry?"  
Harry remained expressionless, looking closed-off and annoyed by the conversation.  
"Yeah, Harry" Ron started, encouraged by Hermione's presence. "I didn't know you were a homophobe... That's not - That's not really cool, mate."  
Harry did turn to look at him, looking exasperated and like he was about to say something, but Hermione beat him to it.  
"I'm sure the problem here isn't Harry's views on homosexuality" she said, laughing to some joke only she knew about. Ron looked at her as if she'd gone mad.   
"What are you even talking about?"  
Harry angrily stood up and left promptly.  
  
***  
  
They didn't address the matter anymore after that, and a full week went by where Harry would pointedly never look in Malfoy's direction whenever he would sit next to Zabini in class. They didn't seem to act any different than they ever had - they didn't kiss or even touch each other differently than friends would. Their mere presence next to each other seemed to be enough to make Harry sulk, though.   
On Friday, as the week was drawing to a close and the incident seemed to be forgotten (which Harry was more than grateful about), Ron brought it up. They were in the Great Hall, having breakfast, when the ginger got a letter from his mother. He read it, smiling.  
"What does it say?" Harry asked, grinning as well. He really did love the Weasleys.  
"She's telling me about all the plans for Christmas", he said, still smiling. "Charlie is finally coming to spend it with us." Harry nodded, smiling, happy that he'd get to meet the older brother, finally. Ginny, who had apparently received a similar letter, appeared next to Ron.   
"It's great, isn't it?" She smiled. She'd always loved Charlie. "And we're _finally_ meeting Jake!"  
"I know!" Ron answered, a happy grin on his face. Suddenly, his expression faded. He turned to Harry, who was more confused than ever.  
"Harry... You know, what I said earlier this week - I meant it. It's not cool if you're homophobic. Charlie is gay. He has a boyfriend - a really serious one he's bringing to Christmas."  
Harry sat there, slacked-jawed (and for mixed reasons).   
"I- I never..." He didn't finish his sentence, not knowing exactly what he could say, since his own thoughts were so confused. Ron looked at him in a disappointed manner and Harry felt even worse. At least Hermione was looking at him with something like compassion in her gaze.  
  
***  
  
Just when Harry thought the day couldn't get any worse, the trio came across Malfoy and Zabini in a recluse corner of the castle. Hermione had insisted they go to the library, but as they had reached the shortest and most common route, the stairs had begun to move. They had had to change their path and had ended up going through one of the most deserted corridors of the entire castle. That's when they spotted them - the two males wearing Slytherin colors. Even from a few steps away, they were unmistakable. And as they got closer, it became more than clear exactly what they were doing. The words "making out" came to mind, but they weren't enough to describe the way the two men were rutting against each other, absolutely desperate. "Humping each other violently against the wall" seemed more accurate. Ron's mouth fell open in an exact replica of his reaction the first time he'd witnessed the two Slytherins. Hermione's face took on a really weird expression that Harry couldn't define. As for him... Well, he'd rather not know what he looked like in that moment. They must have made some sort of noise because suddenly, Draco was turning to them.  
He looked absolutely _debauched_. His hair was a mess, his lips cherry red like they had been bitten, his pale complexion rendered rosy at the cheeks... He looked so delicious right then and there that Harry had to refrain from jumping him. Blaise looked at them calmly from over Draco's head, his big hand still holding Malfoy close by the small of his back. Harry felt irrational anger rise in him. Draco's face, as opposed to Zabini's, looked the very picture of shock and shame. He straightened his tie that had been askew before standing straight, his head held up high, as if defying them.  
"What are you even looking at? Haven't you seen enough? I bet you're burning to run around school and tell everyone that your hated enemy is a disgusting fag." The tone was a mixture of anger and self-deprecation. Harry's own anger was rendered even worse by the sight of Zabini caressing Draco's back in a comforting manner.  
Surprisingly to everyone, it's Ron who spoke up first.  
"Malfoy, as much as I hate you, I won't run around telling everybody something as personal as that. And being a 'fag', as you put it, isn't a bad thing. One of my brothers is gay, and that's not a problem for any of my family. We love him just the same, and that's perfectly normal."  
Harry took in the looks of surprise. Draco looked absolutely stunned, Blaise, as collected as he was, couldn't hide a tiny look of awe, and Hermione looked at Ron with impressed, shining eyes, as if he'd just announced that Voldemort was dead. She soon collected herself, though, and said:  
"It's true, Draco. As much as we might hate each other, that would be crossing a very big line, and we won't do it. And Ron was right: there's nothing wrong with being gay."  
'There is with getting it on with Blaise Zabini, though' Harry thought.  
"Well, as much as I appreciate your Gryffindor values right now" Malfoy said - with the same distaste he always used when talking about the Gryffindor House - once he'd recovered from his surprise, "Potter here doesn't seem to agree with you."  
Everyone turned to Harry who tried to school his features into something that showed less affect toward the situation, but they'd already seen the look on his face.  
"Harry, are you really still so close-minded? Cause if you are, I don't know if Christmas will-" Ron started, looking disappointed again.  
Harry interrupted him coldly.   
"I have nothing against gays. Just against these two particular ones, especially when they're together." And he left promptly.  
  
  
***  
  
  
He knew he was behaving like a drama queen, and that all these hurried exits were getting old and probably a little ridiculous by now, but he just couldn't help it. The sight of Malfoy and Zabini together... It was unbearable. Harry didn't even know _why_ , but he couldn't stand the sight of them together. And what was it with Ron? He was never like that. He was always, _always_ on Harry's side. And he never dared speak up like that.   
The dark-haired boy felt like tearing his hair out. He was so frustrated. He just couldn't get the image of a debauched Malfoy out of his mind. The boy's face kept coming back to him, and he kept seeing Zabini's huge hand pulling him closer. He wanted to scream, to tear Malfoy out of Zabini's grip.   
_If only he could know why_. He knew he wasn't homophobic - he didn't mind seeing two men together, love was love. But what he had said was true. He couldn't stand these two together. But why, then? Why was the pungent image of the two Slytherins together impossible to get out of his head?  
  
***  
  
The next few days were very tense, with everyone ignoring the elephant in the room. The trio hadn't suffered any altercation with either Malfoy or Zabini since the incident. It was like they were pretending the others didn't exist. It was both a relief and a cause of more frustration for Harry: a relief because he didn't want to have to face them after his little outburst, nor did he want to see them together again; and frustrating because not having Malfoy yell at him or even just acknowledge his existence was insufferable. Harry reasoned it must be because he was so used to having the boy in his life, acting as his Nemesis, that suddenly not having him was creating a void. He didn't know if he could even convince himself.  
  
***  
  
The status quo all came to an end the day Hermione confronted Harry. They were walking through the park on their own, talking about several things, when she brought it up.  
  
"So, Harry, now that Ron is finishing his Potions essay and we're just the two of us, do you want to talk about the Malfoy situation?"  
Harry knew it had been coming, but that didn't make it any easier to face.  
"Not really, no."  
"Come on, Harry, this whole thing is getting ridiculous. You're obviously quite obsessed with him and very jealous. You might as well come out with it and admit it to yourself."  
"Jealous?! What do you mean??"  
Harry felt a cold sweat drip down his back. Fuck. Now that Hermione had voiced the possibility, it had made it real. The simple statement caused all the barriers he'd erected in order to protect himself through denial to come down.  
  
Hermione just raised her eyebrows and looked pointedly at him. He swallowed. If he was going to admit it, he might as well admit it to his best friend.  
  
"Alright. Well, yeah, I might - Maybe I - I can't say it, 'Mione."  
"Yes you can. I know what you feel, but I think it might actually be good for you to say it, to put words on it so that you can get on with your life."  
"I want Draco Malfoy." He went red to the very roots of his hair when he realized how breathy his voice had sounded. And now that he had said it... God, it was impossible to ignore. The desire was settling deep in his stomach, total and devouring, and images of soft creamy skin were impossible to ignore. He wanted to taste that skin, to lick it, to kiss it, to bite it, to mark it. To make it his. And he imagined Malfoy's lips, all pink and plump like he had seen them. How would they feel under his own? How would they taste? How would Malfoy taste in other parts of his body? He started wondering about lots of things. What was Malfoy's scent, for one? He had never been close enough to notice how the boy smelled. Did he wear cologne? What did his body look like under those robes? It looked to be lithe and long, but what was under there? A set of abs? And... What was his cock like? Harry bit his lip and tried to not get hard. Fuck. He had never even thought he was anything but straight... But fucking _Malfoy_. He wanted the answer to all those questions, but he knew he would never get them. And knowing the Zabini _did_ know was unbearable.  
"God, Hermione... I want him _so much_. He's just so fucking gorgeous, isn't he?"  
There was a pause.  
"Yeah, Harry, he really is. I never understood why all the girls were always fawning over him but... This year, I've gotten a good look at him, and I must say... He is incredibly good-looking." She finally answered, to Harry's surprise.  
"But he'll never want me! He _hates_ me! And he's already with Zabini!" Harry exclaimed, feeling defeated and jealous. Maybe admitting his attraction wasn't such a good thing after all...  
"Harry, you never know. You never know." Hermione answered enigmatically.  
  
***  
  
  
The following days were both easier and harder for Harry. The former, because he could now understand his own feelings, at least; and the latter, because ignoring Malfoy had become impossible. He saw him everywhere, was aware of his presence whenever they were in the same room, and saw him in his mind even when he wasn't there. He daydreamed about him constantly, imagined his beautiful body under his, the things he would do to him... He wanked furiously at night, after casting Silencios, and even had a few dreams about him. His obsession was becoming a bit too excessive... But there wasn't much he could do.   
He was also staring at the blonde beauty a lot, and once again, Zabini and Parkinson seemed to have noticed. They had looked confused at first, before becoming more and more smug. Harry blushed every time they caught his eye while he was admiring Malfoy's face. After a while, it was Malfoy who started meeting his gaze. He looked surprised at first, before becoming more and more annoyed.   
It all came to a turning point one day after Potions, where Harry had been particularly thorough in his Malfoy-stalking. Harry was walking down the corridor at a brisk pace to join his two friends who had left without him, as he'd had to go retrieve a forgotten quill from the classroom, when he was slammed against a wall.  
"Wha-"  
Before he could even ask the question, he realized that the person who had him pressed against the cold stone wall was Malfoy. Many of his fantasies started like this, and he felt very fazed.   
"Listen, Potter, I don't know what game you're playing at, but it would be nice if you stopped staring at me all day long" he said in a dangerous voice.  
Harry tried to come up with an answer, but all he could think of was how good Malfoy smelled. So he _did_ wear cologne, then. Malfoy continued speaking, sensing he wouldn't be interrupted.  
"Since you've seen me with Blaise, you keep looking at me as if I'm some sort of monster you need to examine. Well, guess what, Potter?? Being gay isn't a crime! Even the fucking _Weasel_ knows that! I'm getting very tired of all your stares! I can't even think straight knowing you're watching my every move!" He ended, seething.  
"Well, I can't think straight because of you either. Literally." Harry didn't know what had possessed him to say that, but he couldn't take it back now.  
" _What_ \- what do you even _mean_?"  
The heady scent of his enemy must have gotten to Harry's head, because he suddenly threw all caution to the wind.  
"I fucking _want_ you, Malfoy!! I was fucking _straight_ before all of this happened, and now I can only think of you and your ridiculous _perfect_ face and gorgeous body and all the things I wanna do to you!"  
There was a second of silence, and then Malfoy was launching himself at Harry, and they were _kissing_. Malfoy's lips were on his, and they were so soft, so _incredible_. He wanted to taste him, though, all of him, so he opened his mouth, and Malfoy groaned. Their tongues met, and Harry shuddered. He tasted _so_ good. He didn't think he'd ever be able to forget that taste, he already felt addicted to it. They kissed hungrily, and Malfoy took Harry's hands in his, pressed them against the wall on either side of his head, while shoving him even closer to the wall with undulating thrusts of his body. Their hard cocks met, and the friction was so, so good. Harry moaned in Malfoy's mouth at the feeling. It was so dirty, rutting against each other, fully clothed, in a corridor where anyone could catch them. Draco angled his hips differently, and they both moaned in unison at the feeling.  
"Fuck, fuck, Potter-" Malfoy said, freeing his mouth from Harry's for a moment. "Wanted this for so long."  
"How- How long?" Harry asked in-between moans.  
"Second year..."  
_Fuck_.  
Harry reclaimed the blonde's mouth, groaning at the friction and the feel of Malfoy's dick, warm even through his robes, long and hard. He wanted to see it, to taste it. But he was so close, and anyone could come and catch them now, so he just quickened the pace of their thrusts.  
Suddenly, Malfoy was spasming, letting out a long, drawn-out moan. "Harry!"  
The name was enough to make Harry come, and he shuddered before slumping in the Slytherin's hold.  
" _Fuck_ , Draco" he sighed.  
There was a hand in his hair, massaging his scalp in a gentle manner. The affectionate gesture was almost as good as the sex, and Harry felt his heart beat out of his chest. He'd only ever received painful touches meant to _hurt_ from Malfoy, and this... He could feel shivers going up his spine. He buried his face in the boy's sweet-smelling neck, where the skin was so soft it could be mistaken for a baby's.  
Suddenly, Draco laughed.  
"What is it?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowed.  
"This is just... Harry, this is just so absurd!"  
The use of his first-name was another source of pleased shivers.  
"It is" Harry said, smiling. "God, you're an amazing kisser, though."   
"Thanks" Draco answered. "You too. Like, _so_ good."  
They were silent for a few minutes, Malfoy's long fingers carding through Harry's thick hair, and Harry's hands caressing the blonde’s back. Suddenly, he spoke up.  
"Draco" he was pleased to note the use of the Slytherin's first name seemed to have the same effect on him "Next time, I want to taste your cock."  
Draco shuddered.  
" _Fuck_ , Harry, you can't just drop that on me like this. Shit, yes, I want that."  
Harry smiled against the silky skin of Malfoy's neck, knowing there would be a next time. Suddenly, he remembered something. He lifted his head.  
"But... What about Zabini?"  
"Blaise? Oh, no, we're- we're not together. We've just been casually hooking up. I- I imagined it was you when I was with him."  
"Oh, fuck... Draco..."  
The rest was lost in more hungry kisses.  
  
  
***  
  
  
The next few days were spent sneaking around, making out against walls or meeting up in empty classrooms at night to exchange hasty handjobs. They hadn’t gotten down to blowjobs yet, although they had both voiced their desire to do so. But Harry was very determined to make it happen that particular night. It had been a week since their first encounter, and after seeing Draco’s gorgeous cock – long and pale and silky smooth – all Harry wanted to do was to taste it. It felt amazing in his hands, and he could only imagine how great it would feel in his mouth.

They met in the classroom they had come to think of as theirs. It was on the second floor, halfway between the Slytherin dungeon and Gryffindor tower. It was easy for them to meet there, and they had learnt the best routes to get there without getting caught.  
Harry was the first to get there, as always (it was certainly easier for him to make his way through the corridors, thanks to his Invisibility Cloak), and as soon as Draco passed the threshold, Harry pressed him against the wall and started devouring his beautiful, pale neck.

“Harry” Draco sighed, almost a moan. “Stop leaving marks, it’s getting harder and harder to cover up.”

“’S not my fault you bruise so easily. So pretty” Harry groaned, closing the door with his left hand while he unfastened Draco’s robes with his right one.

“Plus, you like it” he added, a mischievous smirk on his lips. Malfoy only groaned before pulling him closer and kissing him, open-mouthed and dirty.  
Harry didn’t think he would ever tire of Draco’s taste. He didn’t think he had ever tasted anything better. It was delicious and addictive, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Soon, they were rid of their robes and everything underneath, except their boxers. Draco was wearing green silk ones, so tight Harry could make out everything. He ached to get his mouth on that part of the other boy. The Slytherin made a move to grasp his cock, probably planning on giving him a handjob, and Harry wanted it, he wanted it bad, but he wanted Draco’s cock in his mouth even more.

“No” he breathed. Draco looked at him, confused. Harry sank to his knees, never breaking eye-contact.

“Fuck, Harry…” Draco said, closing his eyes as he moaned.

“No, keep your eyes on me.” The blonde’s eyes snapped open, and the metallic lust that Harry saw there was almost too much.  
He started kissing the silk-covered flesh, slowly and sensually. Then, he opened his mouth and sucked on the tip of Draco’s cock through the fabric. The noise his lover let out at that moment made Harry’s cock twitch, and he wrapped a hand around himself. It was so, so hot. But he wanted to taste Draco’s dick.

He slid the boy’s boxers down, and the hard length sprang free. It was as gorgeous as ever, and Harry had never seen it from such a close vantage point. He took it in his hand, slowly caressing it, before bringing it to his mouth. He licked the glistening tip and moaned as the flavor of the moaning boy above him exploded on his tongue. _Fuck_. If only his precome tasted that good, he wondered how his come would be. He suddenly realized he wanted it, he wanted all the come Draco would give him. Fuck. Harry hadn’t even known he would get off on that kind of stuff, but now it was all he could think of. He was _so_ hard.

He licked he hard length from base to tip, savoring the taste and the soft feel of it. Draco was trembling with pent-up frustration, no doubt dying to have Harry’s mouth wrapped around his cock completely. Harry slowly took the tip in his mouth, before sucking hard. Draco’s long moan of pleasure was extremely gratifying. Then, he tried to take more of it, and slowly sank down on his cock. A hand landed on his hair and gripped it hard. Harry hummed in response, which only seemed to spur Draco on, as he groaned and tightened his grip. It hurt, but it made Harry’s head hazy with pleasure. Fuck. Apparently he got off on being dominated too.

He continued his ministrations, alternating long, hard sucks and licks. More precome kept coming, and Harry drank it all up greedily. He kept taking Draco’s dick deeper and deeper, but apparently it wasn’t enough, because, suddenly, the hand in his hair was forcing him down. He gagged and felt embarrassment creep up on him for a second, but Draco just moaned. As he got off the boy’s dick to lick it from base to tip once again, the Slytherin talked for the first time since Harry had gone down on him.

“Sorry, was that- too much?”

Harry immediately shook his head.

“No…” He blushed “I liked it.”

Draco’s eyes went dark with lust and he grabbed his head again, forcing him down once again. Harry’s eyes went damp, but he felt a crazy shiver of lust go through him. _Fuck_. He gagged again, but Draco just kept him there.

“Yeah, like it when I choke you on my fat dick like that? Like taking it hard, deep down your throat?”

Harry almost came at the words, and let go of his dick to prevent that from happening. He hummed to show his approval. Draco let him go.

“Answer me, slut.”

Shit, it shouldn’t have been that hot to hear that word.

“Yeah, yeah, I love it, Drac-“

He was once again forced down violently, and he sucked as hard as he could.

“Yeah, like that? Little bitch. If I had known this would have shut you up, I would have done it years ago.”

He started thrusting his hips, fucking Harry’s mouth and throat.

“Yeah, like that, huh? Like my dick, don’t you? Bet you’ll want me to give it to you all the time now. You’ll push me in dark corners in-between classes to take it in your mouth, won’t you?”

Harry moaned, because fuck, yeah. He wanted that. He didn’t think he’d be able to not have it in his mouth after that. He’d want it all the time.

“You’ll take me just like that. Yeah.” He punctuated his words by fucking Harry’s mouth in long, deep strokes. “I’ll thrust down your throat while dozens of students walk by, not knowing I have the Chosen One on his knees for me, taking my cock like a good little whore. Because you’re my whore, aren’t you, Harry?”

Harry got off his dick to answer.

“Yes, yes please. I’m your whore”

Draco groaned at the words.

“Mine?”

“Yours” Harry answered, before letting Draco continue fucking his mouth.

“I’m gonna come, fuck, Harry…”

Harry felt a thrill at that, and sucked harder. Suddenly, Draco was arching, his fingers digging in Harry’s scalp, and the Gryffindor hastily drew back, wanting to receive everything in his mouth, to taste him completely. Draco must have mistaken his sudden movement, for he took a step back, probably believing Harry didn’t want him to come in his mouth.

Harry shook his head vehemently and grabbed his hips, pulling him closer.

“No, no, give it to me, give it all to-“

“Yes, you’re a comeslut too, aren’t you? Take it all, bitch.”

And then he was coming, and the white streaks were all landing on Harry’s tongue, and fuck, if he had thought precome tasted good… This was fucking amazing. He drank it all up greedily, lapping it up as fast as he could. Some leaked out of his mouth and glided down Draco’s beautiful cock. When he was done swallowing everything in his mouth, he chased the rest down, licking at Draco’s cock like his come was the most delicious thing he had ever tried.

“Yes, fuck, Harry…” Draco moaned.  
Harry stood up suddenly, and kissed Draco hard, wanting him to taste the come on his tongue. Draco groaned and lapped it all up before grabbing Harry’s dick and giving him hard, fast strokes that brought him over the edge in no time. He came hard and fell into Draco’s arms.

“Holy fuck.” Draco said.

“Yeah” Harry agreed, laughing.

“Those are kinks I didn’t even know I had!” Draco exclaimed.

“Me neither” He laughed. “I’m glad I’m exploring them with you, though.”

“Same here, Harry.”

There was a moment of silence as they caressed each other slowly, still wrapped in each other’s arms in a warm embrace. Then, Draco spoke up.

“Did you mean it? That thing about you being…”

“Yours?”

“Yeah. Mine.” Draco said, as if testing the word.

“Yeah” Harry said, his heart beating fast. He had started to appreciate Draco for other reasons than just his body, and maybe even having feelings for him. He hoped he wasn’t the only one.

“Good.” Draco answered, before kissing him possessively. “I’m yours too, you know.”

 

Harry couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he got back to his bed.

 

***

 

The reactions from everyone the next day were chaos as Draco and Harry walked hand in hand into the Great Hall.  
Ron almost fainted, Hermione looked at them with a proud look on her face, Zabini cat-called and Parkinson just snickered knowingly. As for the rest of the school, the reactions were mixed. But Harry didn’t care, because Draco was his now.

**Author's Note:**

> So, there it is! Leave comments if you'd like *goes hide*


End file.
